


Nothing Like The Sun

by a_shark_swimming



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen, Lissa is a mess, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, claudia is a creepy child, commodus isn't really evil he's just dumb, dissociative disorder not otherwise specified, mentions of child abuse, mentions of domestic violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:55:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15524514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_shark_swimming/pseuds/a_shark_swimming
Summary: (Working title: 'The Lazarus Heart')Melissa should live a charmed life, coming from Manhattan's wealthiest family as well as being a child of the god Apollo. Yet it is anything but charmed, between dealing with violence from her abusive "uncle" and emotional negligence from her mother, not to mention a younger half-sister who is seemingly out to get her in trouble every day. But, when an act of revenge shatters her already tattered life, Lissa finds herself alone and hopeless in the underground world of NYC.With the help of Apollo (in his mortal guise) and friends, she learns to heal from Nero's wounds. But are her mother and sister safe?





	1. The End of the Game

Claudia’s brow furrowed in frustration, she had to find exactly what Daddy wanted or else he would be mad. It was a game they played, but a secret game. Mommy and Lissa didn’t know anything about it. It was their own little treasure hunt – Claudia would go into her half-sister’s room and find anything pertaining to ‘the monster’ she could find, and bring it back to Nero. Claudia was looking forward to doing good, Daddy would bring her ice cream or read to her, or even let her see Mommy for an hour or so. If she failed, she would have to stay in her room until the entire next day passed, with no contact from anyone except some servants. She frowned at the possibility of that happening.  
She was just starting to notice Lissa’s room was nowhere as pretty as hers was. Sure, it was the same size, but it wasn’t as opulently furnished as her own. She smiled with the satisfaction that her daddy loved her the most. She scanned the room thoroughly until she came to a small statue resting on the shelf above her sister’s bed. Her eyes lit up as she made her way to the bed, scaling it. She crawled on the bed and stood up when she came to the headboard. Gaining height from a pillow, her small hand fumbled at the edge of the shelf, brushing and almost knocking a series of notebooks onto the floor, but she finally clasped the figure in her hand, lowering it to her face, smiling victoriously. It felt a little heavy. A lovely High Renaissance statue, miniaturized. She looked at the inscription at the bottom of the base. Apollon.  
“Funny,” she mused. “He doesn’t look like a monster...” She shivered. Claudia jumped off the bed and quickly exited the room with her prize, running as quick as she could to her father. Nero was sitting in the dining room at the head of the grand table. He smiled as he watched his daughter come to him, her hand outstretched, beaming with pride.

“Did you get what I asked you to, sweetie?” He leaned over the arm of his chair to inspect the item. He took it from her hand, grasping the statue in his own fat hand. He nodded. “Very good, Claudia. Very good. She knows well she’s not supposed to have this.” He squeezed it, watching it snap to pieces in his strong grip. Nero scooped his daughter up and sat her on his knee. “She’s an awful girl, really. A bad influence.” His pudgy fingers stroked at Claudia’s nearly white-blonde hair. He would have liked nothing more than to murder that rotten girl, Commodus’ little whelp. All he needed was Claudia.  
_What a dear, darling child. Good girl._  
“Melissa is a wicked girl, too willful. She’s really not even human, being born of a monster, you know. Not even your sister, if you ask me.”  
Claudia hung on to her father’s every word, nodding in agreement. Only with his final words did her brow knit in confusion.  
“But don’t we have the same mommy?” She asked. “That makes us sisters.”  
“Yes, my dear. You do have the same mother. But poor Commodus knows better now than to consort with grotesque creatures.” His fingertips drummed on her scalp. He leaned backwards in his chair, shifting Claudia on his lap.  
“Okay. Poor Lissy.” She whispered.  
“Utterly wretched.” Nero replied in the same hushed tone. “Now, my dear, you’re just in time to join me for lunch. What would you like the best?”

-

Lissa shivered as she hunched over a notebook, dutifully copying pages from the books spread out all around her on the floor. Her hair was in her face, long and thick and black. She bit her lip. She was tired, so tired, but she couldn’t stop now. She looked at the books – medical textbooks – the illustrations and photographs catching her eye. She found humor in the disgusting images, and it temporarily distracted her from how tired she was. She laughed before copying the next disease with determination.  
A scholar she was not; this was her own personal mission to make a compendium of every disease, syndrome, and malady known to man. Her shoulders shrugged as she tried to distract herself from getting too caught up in her pursuit. If Mama came into the little library and saw her like this, which he sometimes did, he would be even more let down, more disappointed in her than he had been for the past nine years. While she never moved her head to gaze up at him, but she felt those blue eyes, the same blue as hers, burn with a white hot contempt towards her.  
“I am not a scholar.” She whispered. “I am not righteous.” _Keep telling yourself that._ “He doesn’t know me at all.” Not since-

What had happened back then? What happened nine years ago?  
What did she do wrong? She was a child, a little girl.  
_What happened to you?_  
_To me?_

She stared at the words written on the paper. The more she stared, the more blurry the words became. The pencil in her hand became nothing. _Is my hand my hand, or does it belong to someone else?_ Her thoughts slipped away from her, the whole room became unreal. The whole place was unreal. Manhattan ceased to exist, and she ceased to exist. _Am I even breathing?_ Mama-  
When she finally regained her sense of reality, she was lying on her back, gazing up at the domed glass roof of the reading room. The past few minutes – or had it been hours? – were nothing in her mind. She hated these spells. Hated them. Lissa sat up, brushing her hair out of her face and biting her lip, determined to get at least one more page. But her enthusiasm was gone. She sighed and picked her her notebook, maneuvering herself from the floor. Her body felt like gel, she was afraid she might topple over. Lissa meandered through the long, ornate halls, her mind wandering. What had she done to deserve this loneliness? Doomed to creeping around the edges of rooms, never even attempting to get close to Commodus, not for wanting, though-  
It hit her then the only person she had ever made attempts at getting close to was gone now as well. Where did he vanish to? Did he leave in the night? Another wave of betrayal festered in her soul. Her heart ached with something resembling longing, but not quite. And where was-? The name escaped her. She sighed. Why can’t I do what they did? _You love your mother too much. Idiot._  
Lissa finally came to her bedroom, stumbling into her bed, her heavy-lidded eyes becoming even heavier, tempting Somnos. She gazed around her room, taking account of everything before she drifted off. A blank space where her statue used to be. My father-

“Are you having a nice rest, Melissa?” She didn’t hear the footsteps, but he heard the voice. The voice she knew far, far too well. Her heart rate spiked and her eyes widened. No. Why does this happen?  
“I wasn’t even sleeping.”  
Nero moved toward her, his footsteps grew heavier. Lissa was paralyzed, anxiety shooting through her body. His heavy frame lumbered over her. It hovered, their gazes locking.

“Why must you be such a bad child?” His mouth turned into a scowl. “I am absolutely beseeched with wicked, awful children.” Nero shook his head and clucked his tongue. “But you may know that quite well. Why do you keep hurting me, girl? I’ve helped to raise you since you the moment you were born! But you never show me any respect.” His face loomed closer to Lissa’s. She frowned. “Why can’t you see me as the good father I strive to be to you?”  
Lissa took a sharp, shallow breath.  
“Yet you keep pushing me away, and for what? Your _father_!” The word shot like venom from his mouth. “Horrible, wicked, disrespectful brat.” He grabbed her arm, gripping it fiercely in his fat hand, his nails dug into her skin. “You’re nothing but a monster.”  
Lissa’s face remains stoic, though her eyes shone with wetness.  
“Come with me, girl.”

-

Back in her bed, Lissa sat up, her knees drawn up to her chest, wrapped in the comforter and sheets on her bed. The swelling in her face had gone down, so had the bruising, but her cut lower lip still felt swollen. There was bruising from where Nero’s hand and squeezed her arm, and various cuts and bruises had appeared on her hands, legs, and calves.  
She could heal her injuries, but she felt too tired to do so. Too numb. She wanted to sleep, just sleep, but it evaded her. Where was her mother? Close? What was even the use? He never said anything, his face said it all, but yet sometimes, his eyes grew curious-  
She shut her eyes and sighed.  
“You got in trouble, didn’t you?” Lissa opened her eyes to see Claudia standing beside her bed, those large grey-blue eyes staring up at her. Her silver-white hair was loose down her back, and her pale pink mouth smiled against porcelain skin. So fragile, so eerie. Lissa wondered how they could even be remotely related. “You made Daddy mad.”  
“What’s it look like to you?” Lissa rolled her eyes. Claudia was Nero’s child, his own, his own perfect little princess that could do no wrong. The Second Claudia Augusta, Claudia-Living.  
“I know why you got in trouble.” Her voice is tiny, airy. “I never make Daddy mad.” She looked away from her sister, towards the door. “I’m gonna go now.” Lissa said nothing as she watched her sister leave her presence.  
Her eyes widened as realization set in.

The statue. Claudia had been in her room. She had told him.  
Lissa bit her already wounded lower lip. She would have to pay for this, and Lissa knew just how to do it.


	2. Fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for somewhat graphic depictions of abuse.

If Nero valued anyone, it was Claudia. His dear, sweet little girl. She hung on to every word he said as if he were a prophet, hardly questioning anything he told her. The girl had gifts as well; she was a legacy of Apollo but also an immortal, Claudia showed promise in foretelling the future, or so Nero believed. The memory of Octavian loomed well in the back of Nero’s mind, as well as Caligula’s. A miasma of zealotry and the laws of the old ways filled the grand house as if Octavian grasped power from afar.  
She even resembled Octavian. Claudia would have been a very pretty child only if her hair was a pale blonde or sandy brown instead of silver-white, her eyes a dazzling blue instead of a weak shade of blue encompassed by grey, and her skin healthy and pink instead of pale and ghostly, her complexion even more pallid than Commodus’. She was small for her seven years, around the size of a four year old, a little fairy of a child, but lacking the playfulness of one. She instead gave off an unsettling eeriness, no matter how sweet she was. 

Nero was set on teaching her the art of haruspicy at whatever cost. Divination the same as Octavian’s, a stuffed animal or doll but never from her immense collection; yet, there would be another twenty stuffed friends to replace the ones cut up in the name of her ancestor.  
The small girl sat on the plush carpet in the vast sitting room which was filled with priceless antiques spanning the centuries. A plush fox’s skin, cut open at the back, lay tossed off to the end of the carpet. Claudia’s tongue stuck out in determination as her hands grasped and stroked the cotton entrails. She hummed to herself, trying to read into the soft mess. Nero and Caligula sat on opposite sides of her on a Baroque-era French sofa, patting her head and back in support.

“What do you see, my darling?” Nero asked her, entwining a tendril of her silvery hair in his fat fingers. “Anything? Anything at all?”

“Don’t rush her.” Caligula glared at his nephew. He was handsome, with a sharp-angled face and an even sharper grin, but he looked worn, with lines at his eyes and crags in his skin. “Take your time, sweetheart. We won’t be mad if you don’t get anything. I promise you, no one’s going to be mad at you, Claudia.”  
She looked up at her great-uncle and nodded, then turned her head back to the mess. 

“Umm, cloud?” she muttered. “No, no…umm, tree. Bird. Bird!”  
“Ahh, a streak of good luck!” Caligula nodded in agreement. “But we’ve done so well, we’ve all done so well...Good girl, Claud. Best girl. Very, very good.” Claudia smiled at him, content with the praise she was receiving.  
Commodus, who sat in a wingback chair at the edge of the rug, wordlessly looked on, nodding when appropriate. He had never had a chance to create a bond with the child he’d borne Nero seven years ago. Nero had control over Claudia, and there was no way he’d let Commodus be alone with their daughter. Even though she was his daughter, their daughter, he felt no connection. He was aware Nero and Caligula both thought him an idiot, a vicious little fool, but he’d stuck around for the power and the glory. He got up from his seat and strode over to where the disemboweled toy fox lay and picked it up, grabbed the fluff as well and tossed it into the fireplace to complete the ritual.  
The future was sealed.

Lissa peeked her head around the corner from the large hallway, her stomach turned as she watched Claudia being petted and fretted over by her father and her grandfather-uncle, and their mother leaning back on his elbow, looking bored and detached from the whole spectacle. Maybe he was going through a spell like the one she had. It made her sick how they doted on the little girl, and how they rode high off their own superiority. _I’m Apollo’s daughter. What do they have?_ Claudia was so perfect and special, but also the cause of some – if not most – of her pain in life. She smirked. She would get back at her half-sister for certain this time.  
_Why don’t I show it?_

She set one foot on the plush carpet, her breath hitching. One, two more steps. She fiddled with the pendant she wore around her neck, a gold-set ancient cameo on a string of small pearls. Lissa’s head was drooped, but she fixed her eyes on the four of them. She could see Commodus’ eyes boring holes into her, looking even more weary than usual. He seemed more focused on the cameo than anything. Lissa didn’t want to look any of them in the eye.

“What could you possibly want, child?” Commodus’ voice was small, his face looked uneasy. He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, sighing as he did so.

“Ah, Melissa. Just in time to congratulate my girl, I see!” Nero sounded a bit too jovial for Lissa’s comfort. She simply nodded and moved closer to Claudia. “There’s good fortune in store for the three of us!”

“-And all thanks to her.” Caligula added. Lissa bit the inside of her mouth. 

“Congratulations, Claudia.” Lissa whispered. “Good job.” Her stomach turned again. You little brat. She gave her younger sister a smile.

“How about you go and get us some wine, Melissa?” Nero once again leaned down to pat Claudia. Lissa flinched watching the movement of his hand. “Maybe some tea for Claudia?”

“Yes sir.” Her tone of voice never changed. She got up and made her way to the kitchen, a smile on her face. This had to work. She knew her powers. Their newfound streak of luck would only be short-lived.

-

The fluffy bed was soaked with sweat. Claudia turned and twisted fitfully in a half-conscious state when lethargy hadn’t overcome her. For the past few days, her limbs and joints had ached and she’d vomited numerous times, unable to keep even water down. A rash had begun around her mouth and on her tongue the previous day, and the rash had spread out to her face and body, forming pustules. She moaned softly. She couldn’t open her eyes, they were too enflamed for her to even see. She heard what was around her every so often, Daddy was panicking. Mommy was quieter, more composed, but worried. 

Smallpox. The disease hadn’t been seen since the 1970s, but here it was, back in full force, attacking Nero’s child. Nero had been making calls all day to every single doctor, bribing, coaxing, and straight threatening them. Claudia wasn’t just his child, she was an asset and an extremely important one. 

“How could this have happened?” Nero paced back and forth in the delicate, feminine bower of a room that was as fragile as its owner. “How?”  
Commodus sat at Claudia’s bedside on a beautifully upholstered stool, occasionally changing his position to sit facing her or parallel of her. 

“I don’t know, Nero.” He said. “My uncle died from it. I wasn’t much older than Claudia, I loved him very much.”

“I don’t give a damn about your uncle, you fool.” Nero turned to him, the gaze he fixed upon Commodus was hard and black. “I give a damn about MY daughter! MY little girl! What the hell are we going to do?! Why did this happen?! I care about no one but her! Who the hell did this to her?!” His voice boomed, filling the room and rattling the walls. Commodus looked taken aback, but he bit simply shook his head and bit his lip. A ragged sigh escaped his throat.  
Claudia whimpered and rolled over. The rash was spreading to her hands, forming small pustules. Commodus winced. Nero moved to Commodus, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
“I’m so sorry, my darling. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He leaned down and kissed Commodus’ cheek. Such soft, smooth skin. Pale, yet lovely. “This is stressful for all of us.” He looked down at Claudia. “Daddy’s not mad at you for being ill. He’s mad at the person who made you ill.”

Nero stood back for a minute, letting his mind focus on possible culprits. It then occurred to him that he had not seen that horrid child for days. His heart and mind blazed with fury, his jaw set in anger.

“That little bitch.” He muttered. He turned to Commodus. “Dear, you stay here with Claudia. Don’t leave the room until I say.”

-

“Get away from me! No, goddamnit, lemme go!” Lissa screamed as she was yanked by her hair to the floor. She was pulled onto her feet, only for a series of vicious slaps to be delivered to her face. She tried to break from his grip on her upper arm, but it was no use, it was too powerful. She attempted to lunge at him, strike him, but he quickly caused her to topple over and crumple to the floor, a kick to her stomach subdued her even further. Lissa gasped, almost choking as she felt a wave of nausea come over her. 

“ _You monster!”_ Another kick. “You little tramp. I should have killed you the moment you were born! All your life you’ve made my own life full of suffering, you bitch!”  
Lissa struggled to pull her body upward to her feet. She wobbled slightly, sneer fixed on her face. Her nose bled from the force of the strikes to her face, but she was unaware of the fact.

“Who’s the real monster, huh?” The spiteful reply died nothing to boost her confidence, fear was wound as tight as a viper in the pit of her belly. If she had a sword or anything with a blade, she would not hesitate to lunge at him and plunge it into his body. But this wasn’t a gladiatorial match, this wasn’t even a hand to hand fight. Lissa was fit and slim and skilled, but Nero was taller and weighed infinitely more than she did. Lissa shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling the blood drip down into her mouth. She wasn’t going to give up.  
Before she could deliver a blow, Nero picked her up by her neck and threw her against the nearest wall and repeatedly slammed her head against it. Each hit was punctuated by a stream of curses. Lissa howled through the dull ache in her skull, screaming like a dying animal. She kicked at him blindly, her feet coming in contact with his body but never doing enough damage to cause Nero pain.  
Commodus could hear the sound of screaming and objects breaking from down the hall. A cold chill ran down his spine. He focused instead on Claudia, who looked almost lifeless. Her eyes looked red and swollen shut, the pustules an eerie red against her pale skin. He placed her small hand in his, and felt a pang of sadness. _This is so much like- Too much like- No, don’t think about that._ He shuddered.  
“You poor thing.” He whispered. “You know, I really did love my uncle. I wasn’t lying.” This is such a shame. “I know we’ve never had a chance to…be close, like we should…” The words disappear on his tongue. What was there to say to this child? The screams and noise come back to his ears, jarring him. What could Commodus do? Nothing, it is not his place to interfere. He turned his head to the doorway, the turned his head back to Claudia. He sighed and pulled the bedsheet over her head to muffle the cacophony only yards away. He sighed again and squeezed his eyes tight. 

The pearls of the necklace were digging into Lissa’s neck as Nero gripped it in one meaty hand. She was pinned to the wall, the combination of the necklace and the vice grip on her throat was suffocating her. She gasped and choked and swung blindly at him, her eyes stung with tears of pain. Blood and snot covered her face and ran down her neck and on Nero’s knuckles. 

“Oh, you poor little girl.” Nero’s free hand grasped the cameo pendant, tugging the strand of pearls even tighter. Lissa was getting exhausted, but she kept fighting. “So pretty, what a pretty pendant. Sad you won’t be needing this.” Nero snarled and ripped the cameo off its strand. Lissa heard it fall against the marble, the peridot shattering and the gold cracking. Only the pearls remained around her neck. 

“You bastard. You bastard.” Lissa’s voice was hoarse. Nero lifted her higher. _You absolute bastard-_  
There was a brief respite from the pain as Nero brought her down, as her body slammed against the marble. 


	3. Mad About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating in so long, but don't have much free time right now. 
> 
> This chapter was beta'd by my dear friend Deanerys on Tumblr.

She could hear nothing but deafening silence - a sound only punctuated by the rattle of her chains, and the acute throbbing of her head. The very core of her brain ached; in fact, her whole body ached. Lissa was caught between wakefulness and unconsciousness, unable to determine what was real and what was not. Her eyes opened halfway, eyelids fluttering. Wincing, she remembered that her cameo was gone, destroyed, the crash and crack of its fall still ringing in her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling hideously vulnerable without it - her own amulet, her protection. Gone. She whimpered slightly, and let her head loll against her shoulder, faintly registering the fact her arms were above her head, chained roughly together with abrasive metal.

Lissa tried to open her eyes. She couldn’t even register her surroundings. How long had she been like this? Seconds, days, years?

An ache radiated down one arm, then the other, and she groaned in discomfort. Trying to move them proved a useless activity, as she could only manage a tiny amount of movement in her bound state.

Lissa opened her eyes, still trying in vain to move her arms. Who had taken her here? Nero himself, hired thugs, someone else entirely? More importantly, where was she?

Lissa tried to laugh, a hollow, bitter cavity in her throat which died before it could ever move past a fragile intention, cut short by a sudden, aching pain in her stomach. She felt weak - too weak to escape, to move, to think, and, hell, she loathed it.

Lissa settled her head back on her shoulder and let sheer exhaustion take over, the sweet void of sleep beckoning her into its blank arms. Maybe she would die down here. It wouldn’t make any difference, then, if she fought or lay listless. She closed her eyes and sighed, her desperate, furious rage slowly seeping away as shutters fell over her mind.

When Lissa next opened her eyes, her surroundings had grown lighter. Her vision was hazy, and not just from sleep: she could sense a gray smoke around her, encasing her. Lissa’s heart began to throw itself against the walls of her ribcage as two voices rose out of the heavy, roiling fog: a man and a woman. Were they here to set her free? Or to kill her?

The owner of the masculine voice materialized in front of her, and Lissa shut her eyes tight, squeezing.

He was still there when she looked again.

“Who are-?”

“You need to get up. This is no time to be sitting here sleeping.” His voice was stern - scolding, even, and his hair a mass of fine silver, a little less pale than Claudia’s. She could see he had once been attractive - very handsome, probably, but now lines of age and stress had torn their savage path across his skin. He was tall, dressed as a Roman businessman, toga hanging with expert precision from his body. “I won’t tolerate you sleeping all day. You need to get up and do something, child. You may be content to waste your life away, but I will not condone that, _my girl_.” I don’t know you, Lissa thought, confused and disoriented.

“Oh! You’re being too hard on her!” The female voice was back, then. “She’s had a rough past few days!” The woman was also dressed as a Roman, but in the garb of a matron. A long scarf covered most of her black hair. “Come now, Honeybee. You need to get up soon. Wake up, darling. He is correct.”

_Honeybee_. She hadn’t heard that name in years. Not since she was very small-

The ghost of a smile began to form on her face, but before she could say anything, they were gone. Lissa lifted her head, trying to blink back the burgeoning tears.

“Hey, Princess.”

Another voice hit her ears. Familiar, painfully familiar, low and more musical than a stranger would immediately realise.

Lissa let out a small hiss of stunned disbelief.

“We have a lot of stuff to do today, Princess.” He came into view, leaning down in front of her. “If you don’t get to it, I’ll have to do everything without you. And don’t think I won’t, little girl.” He grinned playfully and nudged her leg with his foot.

“Thank gods you’re here!” Lissa yelped. “Oh gods, get me out of these chains-” Her eyes snagged on his face and caught there, clinging to it and its sculptured perfection, unable to move away. “Please,“ she said, as he made no move towards her. "Please. I need you-”

“Get up, Princess.”

He was gone as quickly as the others. Lissa’s eyes widened in the first real shock she had felt since her arrival, and she screamed, a long low mix of rage and terror.

Her eyes opened as she came to, still screaming weakly. Had it all been just a dream? Or a hallucination? Lissa kept screaming, yanking at the chains with all her might, twisting, contorting her body like a trapped, enraged snake. She expelled the years of bottled up rage and pain from her mind and lungs, pulling her body away from the wall with all the strength she possessed

No. That bastard wouldn’t have her beaten and restrained, not today. Nero would never be allowed to hurt her that easily.

Lissa ignored the pain radiating through her chest and stomach as she struck out one final time, using all her energy towards one end, not even breathing as she heard a slow creak , a bang, the sound of falling plaster as she tumbled limply onto the stone floor.

Lissa didn’t move for what seemed like an age, still taking in the rapture of being free. Her breathing was hoarse as she slowly sat up and looked around. Her head ached even more now, but she scarcely cared, giddy and elated. She stood up, surveying her surroundings properly in the dim light. Long stone corridors, dripping water, rubble. Yes, a subway tunnel, possibly very old. She knew there were some abandoned tunnels, destroyed in cave-ins or just lost to time: this must be onr.

“Seems like a good place to send your troublesome prisoners,” she muttered.

It then occurred to Lissa that she had nothing with which to help her leave the room. No arrows, no sword. Nothing as much as a measly pocket knife. If she wanted to get out, it would take work. But hadn’t she been raised to be a warrior? She listened to the sound of the drip in the distance. If she followed that, she could possibly find a way out. Lissa was tired, very tired, but she wouldn’t give up. She stroked what remained of her necklace and sighed softly. As she made her way towards the sound, she felt her body shiver with fatigue. Her head was throbbing still. She was exhausted, and desperately so. Lissa teetered on her heels, rocking, and sank down to the cold, dirty stone below her feet. Yes, just a few seconds of rest, a minute will do. I’ll just close my eyes for a second…

He was there, forever lodged in the back of her mind. Him, glorious, shining, implacable. Damn it. Lovely as always, stirring up memories, and as wounded and bitter as she had always been. He had showed her wounds were marks of pride, each scar and cut and bruise on the body things to flaunt. He was taller than Lissa and twice as strong, but she was a formidable opponent. A suitable match.

Lissa remembered how well he had treated her. She whimpered in her sleep. It seemed that he was the only one capable of soothing her tantrums and fits of rage, his voice and touch the Balm of Gilead for her fractured, embittered psyche.

Even in her sleep, the smell of him was still clear in her nostrils, crisp and cool like autumn, mingled with something masculine. She could taste the scent in her mouth. His mouth, her mouth. His mouth and the tip of his tongue on her palm, slowly lapping the blood from a long gash across her hand. _Do you remember what happened? Was it me who broke that glass, or someone else?_ A gentle, strange kiss, saliva sealing the wound until she could heal herself. _I don’t know what I did. I can’t remember._ But yet, _you_ -

Lissa now stared him in the face. A cool dark corridor sealed them in womb-like solitude. Marble like ice, chairs soft yet chilled. Their shower-cleansed bodies never gave away their innermost thoughts. Her fingertips brushed his skin with curiosity as she approached him, tracing the whorls of his skin like a cartographer of a new and shining world.

She kissed him, impulsive and devouring, searching out knowledge of his flesh. His mouth was a map too, roughin contrast to her own soft lips. He moaned in surprise and longing, Lazarus awoken from a millennia-long slumber. He had pulled her close to him, but Lissa had twisted away from him. Had she wanted to tease him? I wanted you too, as you wanted me. What was I so afraid of…?

Another memory. _She kneeled in front of him; she needed to show him something, she had said. He was on his hands and knees, brow furrowed in worry but his interest piqued. Lissa then lifted up her blouse, smirking as it slowly slipped up over her skin until the hem came to rest just below her breasts. He had found it hard to see at first, the dark marking masqued easily on her pale olive skin. A scar under her sternum, left by a burn from years ago. He had wanted to speak, but he had said nothing; Lissa watched him as he brought his face closer to her skin, his lips trembling. Lissa’s eyes shut as she gasped, for she only felt his lips slide over her skin, the ultimate display of adoration-_

Lissa awoke sharply, and she looked around, half expecting to find him by her side. But there was no one but Lissa, her black hair a mess, with bruises and scrapes all over her body, ripped clothing and dried blood on her nose and lips. Her breathing came louder than normal, creating a soft echo through the tunnel.

“Jerk.” Her words came in a hoarse whisper. “You jerk. I love you.”

There was no time to waste anymore. She grit her teeth. She wasn’t going to die. She wasn’t going to let Nero or anyone win. 

All hail the victor.


	4. Seven Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apollo and Meg make a discovery in the labyrinth; meanwhile, Nero's hold over Commodus grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to update! I struggled with writing this chapter, honestly. Also, I was out of state with my grandmother, so I didn't have much time to write anyway.  
> Like I said, I had a very hard time with this part as far as getting it started. Feel free to leave criticism.
> 
> Proofread by the lovely Deanerys on Tumblr.

Deep in the cavernous maw of the old subway tunnel, voices echoed against the stone. Shoes splashed through the puddles of stagnant water, continuing far into the darkness. Two figures - one short and female, the other taller, and male - looked on cautiously, surveying the area around them.

“Where do you think we are?” whispered Meg McCaffrey, looking up at the mortal formerly known as Apollo. “It’s been how many days? Seven, eight?”

“Something like that, Meg, yes.” Apollo replied. “We came from a way back east, so we are probably somewhere west? Montana or North Carolina… take your pick.” The labyrinth had many forms, underground tunnels, bunkers, and subway rails, and stretched across the entire United States.

The tunnel was growing steadily darker, with only a faint light now illuminating the narrow passageway. Apollo and Meg moved in silence towards the dimmer end of the tunnel, Apollo’s ears tuned towards the sound of water dripping steadily, faintly, in the distance.  
The pair came upon a dead end, a wall formed from rocks and rubble, compacted over years, or maybe decades or even centuries, to make a solid wall. Apollo’s eyes widened.

“I don’t believe it,” he whispered. “It can’t just end! The labyrinth cannot just-”

“Calm down. It’s not the end, just a minor hiccup. I’ve got an idea of how to get through.” Apollo gave the young demigod a curious glance as she smirked, reaching into her gardening belt to pull out a packet of seeds. Giant colocasia plant.

“These guys can grow huge.” Meg commented as she opened the packet. “You may want to stand back.”

-

On the other side of the thick rock wall, feet away, Lissa clawed at the stones as if she were trapped in a tomb. Hell, this was a tomb. She figured she would die soon if she didn’t escape. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the persistent ache in her stomach, her only nourishment a small pool of slightly murky water dripping constantly from an unknown source above. In the past few days she had chipped away a good two inches of rubble, and her nails were cracked and bleeding so much it was hard to distinguish between dried mud and blood. She figured if the starvation didn’t take her, an infection would. She snarled, attacking the wall again, a desperate animal fighting for its life.

A distant rumbling sound caused Lissa to stop her attack on the wall. Her brow furrowed as the rumbling grew louder. She gulped and stepped back, her empty stomach dropping suddenly. Before she had time to process anything, the sound erupted into a crescendo. Before Lissa’s eyes, the wall exploded outwards, causing rubble and stone to fly towards her. Lissa screamed as the force of the blast propelled her through the air. She barely missed hitting the ruined plaster and tile of the wall she had been chained too, slamming onto the floor, her back arching as she came down. She yelled in pain as she rolled over to face the destroyed rubble, ignoring the burning pain that seared down her back from shoulder blade to tailbone. She grit her teeth in an attempt to not fall unconscious. She felt lightheaded, but she couldn’t slip away just yet.

“See, I told you it would work!” Voices. Lissa groaned and squeezed her eyes tight. A female voice. The woman who had come to her before? No. This voice was smaller, younger.

“You are truly terrifying. It will be quite something when you grow older.” Another voice. Male. Younger sounding, as well. Lissa gave a sigh of relief.

As Apollo and Meg stepped over the ruined mass of wall, the former god caught sight of yet another wall. No, it appeared to be a room. A dead end. A complete dead end, again.  
Apollo frowned, eyes flicking around the room. They hadn’t gone the wrong way - he knew they hadn’t. So why…?  
Meg ignored Apollo’s increasing worry, moving closer to the walls, kicking aside some of the rubble on the ground absently.

“This looks like a subway tunnel…” She whispered. Having lived in Manhattan most of her life, it was a sight she knew well. “Shit. Shit!” Meg yelled, the room catching her voice up and playing it back to her in some strange echoing mockery.

“Perhaps we are meant to be here. Do not panic, Meg.” Apollo started to touch her shoulder, but retracted his hand quickly. He didn’t want to risk making her angrier than she already might be. “It could be-”

A strange noise invaded Apollo’s ears, cutting him off mid-sentence. It sounded like a soft moan, like a small wounded creature. He turned around to face the source of the sound, and stopped mid-motion, hissing.  
A girl. She was curled in on herself, a mass of knotted dark hair spilling over most of her features. What he could make out of her face would have been pretty, had it been not so dirty. Her clothes were that of a schoolgirl’s, blouse, jumper, stockings, and fine shoes, but they were nearly ruined by a coagulated mixture of dirt, dust and blood.

“Oh, gods…” Apollo watched the girl move with great difficulty as she got up on her knees.

“Are you two here to get me out?” Lissa whispered. “Please…” Her voice was soft and cracking, faintly accented as if she came from an old, upstate family. Meg gazed upon her as well and stepped towards her, looking upon her curiously.

“How long have you been down here?” Meg asked as she extended a hand.

“I don’t know. A week, maybe. I don’t-” Lissa winced and grasped her hand.

“Help me out here,” Meg snapped to Apollo. He took Lissa’s other arm and wrapped his free hand around the girl’s waist to steady her as she got onto her feet. “Are you alright?”

Lissa’s hair shifted back from her face, exposing her skin. Areas of her face were bruised, small cuts were evident, and a line of dried blood ran from her philitrum to her upper lip. Her blue eyes seemed dull and blank, as if any liveliness she had once possessed had been shut out and stolen. She shifted from foot to foot, trembling as if taken over by a cold chill. Meg took a step back and looked over her carefully. Her brow knitted in curiosity.

“You look familiar.”

“You don’t.” Lissa frowned up at her. “I don’t know you.” She looked at Apollo. “You don’t, either. I have absolutely no recollection…” She felt lightheaded, uneasy.

“I-” Meg looked at Lissa again, then turned to Apollo. “I know her. She-”

“What’s your name?” Apollo interjected. “Who are you?”

“Lissa.” Her voice suddenly sounded light, airy. “Melissa. I’m-” She took a step forward. A burning sensation shot down her spine and radiated outward towards her lower back. Lissa clenched her jaw. She never took her eyes off the two strangers in front of her, even though her vision was getting hazy.

“I…I’m a child of Ap-” A small smile danced across her face. Lissa rocked back on her heels and took a step backward as a blast of pain exploded behind her eyes, and she collapsed.

-

Back at the grand house, there was a celebration. Miraculously, Claudia had survived her bout of smallpox almost unscathed. Except for a lingering case of bronchitis, she looked completely healthy, with no damage to her vision or scarring of her porcelain skin. In a combination of euphoria and fear of contamination, Nero ordered everything removed from Claudia’s room and replaced every item with new models, both antique and modern, even toys. All new clothes as well, nothing flashy, Nero just wanted Claudia to look like the modern princess she was. He ordered new clothes for him and Commodus, and the finest pastries, sweets, and wine money could buy. Claudia’s recovery, while no Triumph like the days of old, was a time for revelry.

However, Nero’s euphoria had failed to rub off on Commodus. He managed to feign excitement and happiness, but his usual vexation seemed stronger than usual. When Nero placed Claudia’s small frame in his arms, Commodus should have felt a pang of attachment as Claudia buried her pale head against her mother’s chest. Instead, he felt something else, a deep and overwhelming sadness.

Something was missing. Apparitions kept flitting around corners just out of his reach: a girl, with hair like black waves and eyes like deep pools of water. Flashes of floating skirts whipping around lean, tan limbs. Her face, expression ever more distant and far-away. The maddening, anguishing knowledge that something deep in his soul was gone.

-

“Commodus, sweetheart. At least eat something, will you?” Nero gave Commodus a stern look as they sat in the candlelit dining room. Nero held Claudia securely on his knee despite his heavy middle as the girl happily devoured a large slice of cake. “Would you care for some cake, my dear? Marzipan? Vegetables, beef, anything?”

Commodus didn’t even acknowledge him. He simply shrugged, his head in one hand and the fingers of his free hand drumming against his thigh.

“Darling, sweet darling. Look at me.” Nero’s voice changed, more harsh. “Look. At. _Me_.”

Commodus finally met Nero’s gaze, his breath shallow, eyes less clear than usual, uncut sapphires instead of smooth.

“You look so unhealthy, my love. Are you alright?” Nero’s pudgy fingers touched one side of Commodus’ neck, feeling for the vein, a healthy pulse.

“I think so.”

“My sweet Commodus.” Nero shook his head. “You aren’t worried about that girl, are you? She’s probably run away. Don’t fret, love.” Commodus’ eyes widened slightly. Nero’s hand moved from his neck and travelled up to his sallow cheek. Claudia seemed too lost in her cake to notice her parents’ words.

“That child caused us so much pain, love!” Nero continued. “She almost destroyed our family, our precious girl.” He lowered his face ever so slightly to Commodus’ face. “Are you blind to how happy we have been without her…?”

Before Commodus could respond, Nero brought his lips down upon Commodus’ own. Commodus squeezed his eyes shut, letting his mouth respond to the sensation. He gave a small moan of pleasure.

“I love you…” he said, with enough feeling to mask its mechanical tone.

Nero pulled away, a triumphant smile on his face.

“That’s better, pet.”

Claudia didn’t notice what was going on above her. She hadn’t even heard. She had dropped her fork the moment her cake disappeared from her view. She sat as upright as possible, staring as the plate and even the table faded out of her view, replaced by a vision of some place where she had never been. It looked dirty, the kind of place where she would never go, ever. She could see two, three figures. Her sister. She looked so run down. She didn’t recognize the other two who were attempting to carry her limp, tired body.

“Lissie,” she whispered dreamily. Poor Lissie. The vision vanished as quick as it had come. Claudia quickly shut and opened her eyes. Maybe she was okay.

_Or was she?_ Was she dead? If she wasn’t, Claudia figured, Daddy would do it sooner than later.


	5. Morning Is Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains non-graphic sexual content, as well as mentions of blood and depictions of mental illness.
> 
> Beta'd by Deanerys.

Apollo’s gaze fell intensely upon the girl from the labyrinth as she slept, curled on her side, his jacket propping up her head. Again, his mind replayed the last few words the girl spoke before she collapsed.

_I am the daughter of the god Ap-_

_Who are you?_ he thought to himself.

It hadn’t been easy getting her out of the labyrinth, but he and Meg had managed. The forest would offer the quiet they needed for now, and Apollo hoped it would keep them hidden for just a little while. They tended to her wounds as best they could with the girl lapsing in and out of consciousness, waking only to mutter a few indistinguishable words before passing out again. Thanks to Meg’s powers, she’d had at least some sustenance in the form of fruit. Even though she’d whined through the food, she had allowed them to tend to her without protest.

He’d had been right: the girl was quite pretty when her face was cleansed of the grime and blood that had lain congealed on it. Color had largely returned to her skin, a somewhat tan, pale olive tone; aside from a few scratches, her cheeks and lips were shell pink, and her eyelashes long and dark. There was something so familiar-

_I am the daughter of the god Apollo._

He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut, chilled to the bone despite the heat of the small fire they’d made. You poor thing. Who could she be, if she was his or otherwise? Meg knew her, or knew of her: she had told him her name - Lissa. Could she know more? She was sleeping opposite of him, a yard or so away, but unfortunately he was aware she was overcome with fatigue. Waking her would not be a wise option.

_Are you truly mine?_

He watched as Lissa rolled over in her sleep, facing Apollo so he could take in her face, tan skin illuminated by the flickering light, her ebony hair pushed away from her features yet spilling down her shoulder. Her face. It had been too dark for him to notice down in the labyrinth. How could he have missed? That nose, long yet charming. The curve of the mouth, the slight angle of her eyelids. If he hadn’t focused on the other features first, his mind could have easily tricked him into thinking he was looking at a very young-

His eyes widened. That couldn’t be.

“Oh gods,” Apollo murmured out loud, burying his face in his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind surging with memories that had all but vanished for millennia, centuries, until now. Had he simply repressed them? Had they been stowed away, and then lost with his divinity?  
_You were mine, my love. Once and always. Why didn’t I fight to keep you…?_

-

_It hadn’t seemed a foolish thought._

_Maybe, Apollo thought, just maybe, I could have fixed him. It was my fault; I let him go. I left him to his own devices, and look what happened. Every bit of this is partly my fault. I can’t deny it. Now I have to fix it._

_He sat at the foot of the large, soft bed. The figure under the blankets shifted and moved restlessly from time to time, whimpering. Once it had settled, Apollo crept along the bed and laid beside the figure, across from it. He reached out, to stroke that strong yet delicate, boyish face. Commodus, his Commodus. His black hair was hanging over his face, and his brow was furrowed in displeasure. Apollo snuggled closer to Commodus, one arm thrown around him, kissing him gently, coaxing.  
Commodus awoke slowly, his face softening as he fixed his gaze upon lovely, golden Apollo._ His, always his. I will never know another but you, my love. You stole my heart, dear Apollo! All these years, a dry spring, these twelve bitter, horrid years without you have been unbearable!

_“I have missed you, love.” Commodus’ voice was a whisper, low and quiet. “Come to me. My only, my beautiful god-”_

_His blue eyes were full of delight as he kissed Apollo and let his body relax, allowing Apollo to take him quickly, mounting what no one else had dared to before. Apollo guided himself into the softness, flesh yielding under the pressure. Commodus held Apollo close as the divine being had him again and again. Warmth like his own celestial light filled Commodus, and the pair fell into the dizzying pleasure. Apollo felt his mortal lover’s teeth graze his shoulder as another spasm overtook them both, a mutual climax locking them together and filling Commodus to the brim-_

_Apollo had wanted desperately to stay. If I had stopped him from going, from taking the throne. Had I not sent down my wrath upon Aurelius - maybe, maybe it could have been different.  
He left Commodus in the dark of early morning, a kiss upon his mouth which would never leave, his absolute final blessing._

_And then-_

-

Apollo snapped back into the present, a groan of grief and pain, almost a wail, escaping his mouth. What did I do? His mind raced. How could I have not known? A wave of nausea rushed in his stomach, causing it to turn over.  
Lissa looked so peaceful. He wanted to lean over her, make sure she was still alive. _But if I killed Commodus_ , he thought, how is the girl even…?

Apollo moved quickly to Meg’s sleeping form, shaking her roughly. Meg shifted and sat up, awake and alert.

“Are we in trouble?” Meg looked around, then looked at Apollo. “Did she run o-what happened?” She asked, an uncharacteristically concerned look on her face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghoul. What’s wrong?”

“The child. Melissa.”

“What about her? Is she okay?”

“As far as I know. Meg, listen to me.” He gripped her shoulders more tightly than he should have. “I-I know who she is now.” Apollo trembled, he was sure Meg could feel his hands shaking.

“All I know was she lived with Nero as well. Apollo, what’s up? Tell me.” Her voice was still impetuously commanding, through - he hoped - her worry. “Do you think she’s a spy?”

“No. No. Listen. Meg. That’s my daughter.” He took a deep, shaky breath.

“Your kid? Seriously…?”

“Melissa is my daughter. I-I messed up somewhere in the past, I thought I could fix Commodus. We…we had a night together, a few months before I-” Apollo’s voice trailed off. “And I never knew. I swear, Meg. I didn’t know. I loved him more than anything. That child is mine and Commodus’ child, if you can believe it.” Apollo squeezed his eyes shut, afraid Meg would scold him. He opened his eyes to find her looking at him curiously.

“It’s okay, Apollo. But, if you and him…you know, its obvious he was, ah, going to have a baby.” Meg stated. “But then you killed him. That would mean you killed her, too.”

“I did not know at the time.” Apollo repeated.

“Then how’s she alive right now?” Meg asked him. “She’s a demigod. We’re mortal, remember?”

Apollo sighed deeply, his shoulders and his grip relaxing.

“I’ll talk to her when she awakens…” He whispered.

“I could help you.”

“No, I need to do this myself. If you want to, you can go back to sleep. This is something I need to do on my own. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Meg replied. “But if something happens, I’m right here, okay?”

“Yes.”

-

Lissa was laying on her back when she was roused from sleep. Her eyelids fluttered as she stared up at the sky, blurry and a shade of grayish-white. She made a soft sound as she noticed a face about a foot from hers. Could it be…?

“How nice of you to wake me up…” She reached towards the mysterious face, fingertips curved in the direction of the face above her. _How beautiful. “This is nice…”_

_As Lissa’s eyes adjusted, she gasped as the form looking intently at her was not the face she had been dreaming of. She sat bolt upright, her brow wrinkling in a mix of curiosity and doubt._

_“Sorry I’m not who you were expecting…?” Apollo honestly had no clue what to say. That had just been odd._

“Who the hell are you?” Lissa asked. “How did I get here? What happened…?” She took note of her surroundings. A forest. The last place she remembered being was the dim, grimy tunnel. “…how?” 

“You were trapped in the labyrinth, you collapsed. We got you out. Meg and I, I mean. She’s a daughter of Demeter-” 

“You aren’t going to kill me?” Lissa had a dim recollection of seeing him before. 

“No, of course not. You would have been dead if you stayed down there.” Apollo looked her up and down. “You had some injuries, and some nasty bruising. Are you feeling okay?” 

“I…Yes, thank you.” Lissa whispered. She shifted farther back from Apollo, reaching under her hair to unclasp the string of pearls from around her neck. “Here, take it.” She held it out before his face. “Its all I have. They’re real fresh water pearls. This necklace is useless to me now-” 

“No. Melissa, I don’t want those, you don’t have to give me anything.” Apollo touched her hand, pushing the necklace back towards her. He noticed that there was an empty loop where something must had been previously attached to the chain. Had she lost it down in the labyrinth? “I would, however, like it if we spoke.” 

Lissa cast her eyes downward as she put the necklace back on. “Yes?” 

“How did you end up in the labyrinth?” Apollo asked. It was possible she could have gotten bored and decided to explore the place. She was Commodus’ child, so he wouldn’t put that past her. Maybe she had gotten lost? But, the broken chains and the wall told a different story. 

“Someone threw me down there.” Lissa’s eyes remained downcast as she spoke. “He hates me. I did something bad. I…I don’t remember how I got down there, I-I think I passed out. I’m certain he intended to kill me.” 

“Who?” 

“My uncle. He’s not really my uncle, though I’ve lived with him since I was born.” Nero, Apollo realized. Nero did this. “He hates me, he beats me because he hates my father, he takes it out on me.” Lissa bit her lip hard. “I’m Apollo’s kid. I’m guilty of being the child of his enemy.” 

Apollo leaned close to her, his hand millimeters from hers. A rush of pity and sadness washed over him. 

“I did something awful, right?” Lissa continued to speak. “Since I’m Apollo’s kid, I can control plagues like he does. I…I didn’t mention this before, but I’ve got a baby half sister. Claudia-” Apollo’s brow furrowed in worry, shocked by the information. Lissa looked at him from the corner of her eye. “She’s terrible. She does everything Nero asks of her. She got me in trouble..” She drew a shaky breath. “I made her come down with smallpox.” 

Lissa felt her throat close as she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears threatened to sting her eyes. Apollo felt the urge to wrap his arms around her, comfort her. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt her…” Lissa trembled. “I’m not evil. I’m not. Nero must have figured I did it, a-and he beat me, it was the worst one I’d had. I didn’t mean to hurt Claudia, you know…?” 

“No one said you’re bad, Lissa. You simply made a mistake.” Apollo touched her hand. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. He looked at her hand again. “I noticed you have quite the mark on your palm. How did you get that?” He grasped her hand gently, attempting to lift it up. Lissa hissed and pulled away from him. 

“No! Don’t touch that.” Her breath was heavy. “Please, don’t…” Why was she so defensive about that scar? Had Commodus hurt her? It made Apollo sick to his stomach, thinking he would even harm her in the first place. But - he also knew Commodus could have a child’s mind, immature and vicious. 

“I’ve had that for a while, at least a year.” Lissa looked at her open palm, stroking the line repeatedly, almost obsessively, as she spoke. “I broke a glass, it dropped. See, I can be clumsy at times, more than most people, I will admit. I… I had to pick it up, piece by piece.” 

Lissa remembered the crash, the sound of shattering. _Caligula leaned back in one of the dining room chairs, an amused look on his face. Go ahead, my girl. Pick it up. He was staring at her now as Lissa leaned over to pick the shards up. Commodus was beside Caligula, staring at nothing, disengaged. Lissa kept her eyes locked on Caligula as the sharp edges grazed her skin. The more she stared, the more her surroundings disappeared. She was outside herself, outside her body, nowhere. Was it someone else picking the glass up? It wasn’t her - she wasn’t her - she wasn’t anyone._

That’s a sweet girl, a pretty little girl you are. _Caligula’s grin was sick - it made her feel ill, she thought - but her body wasn’t really registering the sensation. He turned to Commodus with the same grin, to which Commodus displayed a cool detachment towards. The sensation in her belly was stronger now. She didn’t feel it - the only feeling she had was the sharp pain of glass cutting into her palm, hand clenched around the glass. The blood on her hand seemed a dream as she finally finished picking up the glass. Her mind was blank, possessing not one single thought as she fled from the dining room, spinning, the long, exquisite gallery a blur, a dream. She ran to the bathroom and vomited into the sink, the marble staining with drops of blood. Time was lost as she stared into the mirror, for minutes, hours, there was nothing, no one at all. Not even her._

Lissa sat in silence, unsure of what to say. She could see the look on her rescuer’s face, how pained he looked. She shrugged, trying to shake the feeling of uneasiness that gripped her. 

“You’re going to be alright, Lissa.” Apollo put an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll make sure of it. You’ll be safe with Meg and me, we can protect you.” He still wanted so badly to take this girl’s hurt away; he could see how worn down she was. She was simultaneously beautiful and terrifying just like her mother, but that made her somehow even more endearing. 

“Meg-” Lissa whispered. “Yes, she sounds familiar now. I remember. She doesn’t hate me, does she?” 

“She’s a little wary, honestly. But the more you’re around her, I believe she will start to trust you more.” 

“Thank you. And…” Lissa’s voice trailed off. “Who are you, exactly? I don’t know why, but I feel safe with you. It feels as if I’ve known you forever…” She gave Apollo a slight smile. “You could just remind me of someone I knew for a while.” A blush sprang across her cheeks. 

Apollo swallowed as he removed his hand from her shoulder. 

“Would you believe me if I told you,” he began, “That I am Apollo himself? The sun god in the flesh.” 

Lissa stared at him, silent. She bit her lower lip, doubting his claim. 

“No way. You can’t be Daddy. A-Apollo, I mean. There’s no way.” She shook her head. “I know him! Mama said. Apollo’s golden, like a statue….You’re, well, not.” 

_Daddy?_

Apollo’s face reddened with embarrassment. 

“Look, I know I have acne, and I’m not currently the god of hotness your mother no doubt raved about, but I can assure you that I am in fact Apollo.” 

“If you really are my father…Couldn’t you disguise yourself in a, well, a more handsome form? Mama said you were quite-” Lissa blushed again, feeling foolish. 

“Its a very, very long story, Lissa… Maybe I’ll tell you later.” 

“That’s alright, I guess. I apologize that I doubted you.” Lissa replied. “You don’t want me to call you ‘Dad’ or anything like that, do you? I mean, you look my age. That would be weird. Really weird.” 

“'Apollo’ is fine.” He smiled. “Is it okay if I call you Lissa?” 

“I’d like that.” 

“It’s still early morning.” Apollo looked at the sky. “We should start making our way back east. It’s probably too dangerous for us here. It is definitely too dangerous, in fact. We weren’t supposed to…be here, there. I don’t know how-” 

“Maybe you two were _meant_ to find me.” Lissa whispered. 

Apollo twisted his lips up in silent agreement. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. 


	6. The Book Of My Life

Lissa wasn’t as bad as Apollo had originally anticipated. He wasn’t sure how her personality would be once she had gotten used to being with him and Meg. He had braced himself for a smaller version of Commodus, acid-tongued and spiteful but just as beautiful and charming. He also had to admit, it made the former deity feel just a little out of sorts, she was almost an exact replica of his former beloved, but her complexion was radiant, an all-year-long tan.   
He was secretly proud of himself. Lissa could be playful at times, teasing Apollo about his acne, but for the most part she was quiet. Meg had even eased up to her, the two raven-haired girls formed a bond over their shared trauma. If the girl was a threat, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. But as far as Apollo and Meg were concerned, they were in no danger. Lissa’s quietness was the only thing that perturbed the both of them. She often seemed somewhere else, constantly dazed. It was not unusual for demigods to zone out, in fact it was completely normal, but the level of detachment Lissa tended to display was eerie.

“Do you think she may have hurt her head when I destroyed that wall in the labyrinth?” Meg whispered as she looked at Apollo before she cast her eyes on Lissa. “If she did, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know she was there!”

“Neither did I. But I did explain she could have sustained some degree of concussion.” Apollo touched Meg’s back in a gesture of comfort. “Even then, it probably happened before we found her. There’s no need to worry, Meg.”

“She’s pretty alright.” Meg nodded. “Its sort of cool, you know? Finding a long-lost kid of yours.”

Apollo couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of attachment towards his daughter. She seemed genuinely happy to be around him despite his admittedly ghastly mortal body, and she seemed to know everything about him, the old legends included. Heat rose to Apollo’s face as he listened to the girl talk, wondering why Commodus hadn’t planted it in their daughter’s mind that the sun god wasn’t a complete bastard. In return, Lissa listened with rapt attention to the unfortunate tale of how Apollo had been cast to the mortal realm by his own father - her grandfather - for indiscretions.

“Do you think there’s a way to make you immortal again? A quicker way.” Lissa commented. “You probably miss being the so-called self-proclaimed ‘God of Hotness’”. Lissa stuck the tip of her tongue out at the phrase. Meg couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, and Lissa rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I do!” Apollo’s face burned again. “If you could only see my divine form, you’d be convinced!”

“Well, _someone_ was.” Lissa giggled as she whispered the phrase under her breath, her long tangles of hair falling in her face. “I told you I believe you. I’m sorry.”

Apollo smiled. It was good to see her interacting with them, happy and open. At least, on the surface. He knew very well from Meg that the soul was reminiscent of an iceberg, the darkest parts sometimes buried deep down. He wanted to know more about her, despite the fact she was obviously still loyal to Commodus. Nervousness engulfed Apollo; he didn’t want to see the beautiful face that still haunted him. Other worries concerning her weighed heavy on his mind. He wasn’t sure of what he would find, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see.

-

“Lissa?” Apollo’s voice made Lissa groan in annoyance. She was tired and wanted to rest.

“What?” She frowned in displeasure. Sure, Apollo was her father, and she loved him, but that didn’t erase the fact she was allowed to be annoyed by him. She suddenly felt guilty for snapping at him. “I-I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired-”

“That’s fine, apology accepted.” Apollo looked upon her tenderly. “I wanted to speak with you. That scar on your hand, it got me wondering. Has your-has Commodus ever hurt you?”

“You think he gave me…?” Lissa squeezed her eyes shut. “No! How dare you. Mama was nothing but good to me.”

Was.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, I’m sure. What are you trying to be, Child Services or something?” Her lockjaw accent got more pronounced as she spoke.

“No! Gods, no. Lissa, you’re my daughter. Meg and I are a little worried, frankly.” Apollo kept his gaze focused on hers. Lissa bit the inside of her mouth. “Earlier, yesterday, you seemed quite…odd. You didn’t seem to know where you were.”

“I don’t think any of us did.” Lissa admitted, confusion spreading over her face.

“No, I mean…You couldn’t seem to recall where you were or what happened over the past few hours. It’s like you were dreaming.” Apollo stated. “Meg was worried she’d injured you down in the labyrinth.”

“My brain gets weird sometimes. And not the usual weird. Sometimes I just…I go missing, I guess. Nothing feels real. I’m gone, and when I come back to wherever, I can’t really…remember. Sometimes I feel bad after.” Lissa bit her lip. “You think Mama made me like that…?”

“No, not at all.” It was only halfway true. Apollo grabbed her hand, not wanting to frighten her. “Do you think you’d be open to telling me more about yourself?” It had worked with Meg, why not with his own blood?

“If you want to hear, I guess.” Lissa shrugged. “Its pretty boring, I guess. I-I didn’t always have a bad life, I was pretty happy for at least a few years. Mama was all I needed.”

Apollo shut his eyes and took a shaky breath.   
_An infant looked up from her bassinet in the middle of the ornate solarium sitting room._ Lissa’s first clear memory. _She squirmed as Commodus kneeled beside the ruffled crib, dangling an item over her tiny face. Her large blue eyes stared placidly at the object above her sparkling from the light coming through the glass roof._ The necklace Lissa is wearing now, Apollo realized. _Lissa raised a tiny hand up, batting the pendant. It was green stone, backed in pure gold._ That’s what was missing.   
_“Oh, my darling. My dear little girl.” Commodus gave her a small smile. “Its the best I can do for right now, little princess.” He leaned in closer and kissed her cheek, making Lissa squeal. Lissa tugged the necklace from his slender yet strong fingers and gummed the pendant with a triumphant smile. “Do you know who that is, my little honeybee? That’s my mama on the necklace, your grandma.” He reached down, stroking Lissa’s halo of downy black curls._ Apollo’s heart dropped. He remembered Commodus never knew his mother, for Faustina had died soon after childbirth, the fatigue of labor had been too much to bear.   
_“It will keep you safe, dear little princess.” Commodus had gazed down at her like he could give her the entire universe._ Maybe this was the wrong thing to do, Apollo thought. _Lissa had babbled happily at her mother’s words, completely innocent and trusting._

_Lissa was now three, outside, a small_ rudius _in her hands. A tiny, proud future gladiator. Commodus was amused by her, and he was playing fairly, this being more a game than serious training. He laughed with delight at his daughter’s ability._ The purest sound in the world. _Commodus made a display of himself, feigning death at the marvelous defeat.  
“For lo,” he gave a croak. “I have died! Long live the victor!” Lissa squealed in delight at this, dropping her toy sword and climbing on top of Commodus, kissing his nose in an attempt to 'revive’ him. Commodus’ arms clasped around her, hugging her close. “Good job, my little girl.” He whispered.  
_ Have I been wrong about all of this? Was this mortal form messing with him?   
_Five years old now. Lissa’s eyes widened at Nero’s large frame filling her doorway. His eyes were hard, cold as steel. Commodus stirred from his spot beside his daughter in her bed, sitting up._

_“Mama.” She whispered. Nero silently motioned for Commodus to accompany him, all the while eyeing the child like she was some vile insect. “Mama-”_ Blackness now. _Horrible, pained sobs._ Apollo’s eyes opened. Lissa pulled her hand from his, backing away from him slowly.

“Enough of that.”

_Mama!_

Apollo shuddered. He moved towards Lissa, hugging her close. More memories came to him despite Lissa’s stoic calm.   
She was looking down in a grand crib, smiling at and talking to a baby that Apollo guessed to be Claudia, her eyes the same blue as Lissa’s, but her hair was pale gold. _A shadow then loomed over her, them. Lissa turned around slowly, terror in her eyes._ The girl whimpered audibly against Apollo’s shoulder.   
_She was now the sullen, anxious girl Apollo had come to know. The scar on her hand was a cut, free from blood but still a ghastly red. Hands held on to her wrist and knuckles with care, a tongue slid across the cut. Lips replaced the tongue, pressed against the flat of her palm, lingering._ The scene was as tender as it was erotic, Apollo felt a blush rise to his cheeks-

Lissa pulled away from him, taking in a gulp of cool air.

“I’m sorry about that-”

“What was…?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Lissa kicked at the ground with her heel. “How about you sleep, Apollo?” Her voice was soft, she seemed anxious. “I won’t sleep tonight anyway. I can’t. Its not your fault.”

“I apologize if I made you upset.” “It’s not your fault my life got tough.” Lissa faked a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay, you get some rest. I’m used to staying up.”

“Are you certain?” Worry crept over Apollo.

“I was raised to be a gladiator.” The smile was more sincere. “I promise you I’ll be okay.”

-

The forest brought a calm to Lissa that she’d never known before. She laid on her back, her gaze transfixed on the seemingly endless stars. It was so beautiful; she would never see this in Manhattan. Was this the same sky that was so dazzling eons ago when…? _Of course it is, dummy. The sky doesn’t change no matter how much time passes by. People all over time have loved and died under the sparkling canopy._ Her face felt warm.

“Are you seeing the same thing I am? It’s wonderful.” The words came to her in an instant, and she spoke them aloud without hesitation. Silence answered back. Lissa felt foolish. The sun would be rising soon, the stars would disappear. It saddened Lissa to think of the loss, because where would this journey take them tomorrow? Would the cosmos be just as spectacular?  
Lissa stood up, taking a look at her surroundings. It wouldn’t hurt to wander around for a little while, take in everything. What are you, a nerd? She’d be able to find her way back to where they were resting easily. Not too far, now. Lissa moved slowly, cautious of the uneven terrain in the dim light. She took notice that beyond the forest just a few yards was flat land, a field?

“Where on Earth are we?”

“Well, you’re close to me, if that helps you any.”

Lissa’s tired mind didn’t seem to register the voice, only the sound behind her. She screamed.

-

“What’s wrong?” Meg called out as she moved towards the sound. Apollo followed her, his senses heightened. There was no doubt in his mind Lissa was his child, she had inherited quite the piercing scream.

“I’m fine! I think I am!” Lissa answered. Below her, a loud groan could be heard.

“Ah, shit. Damn, girl…” Lissa couldn’t make out the figure yet, the dawn would be breaking anytime soon. “What are you trying to do, break my face?”

“I’m sorry. I-” Lissa sighed as she heard her friends approach. “I got scared, I’m easily startled. Guys, I am so sorry-”

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Apollo interjected, vision sharpening with the change of light caused by the dawn.

“Should be askin’ you two the same thing.” He stood up, hand covering most of his face. Lissa could see now that he was tall and possessing a large physical presence, but not hulking. “Damn, I think my nose is broke…” He turned towards Lissa. “As for _you_ -”

Lissa’s heart skipped a beat. _Am I-?_

“What the _fuck_ , Princess?” His hands dropped from his bloody face. He smiled. “Gods, you look like shit, babe. I know I’m old fashioned, but I don’t think this is how people say 'hello’ nowadays.”

“And they know each other how…?” Meg whispered in Apollo’s direction. _Babe_? What?

Lissa took a step back as she looked up at the man in front of her. She smiled and moved forward to where she was only millimeters away from him, and threw her arms around him.

“Oh gods.” Tears threatened to sting her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much, Lityerses.”


	7. We'll Be Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Deanerys on Tumblr!

Lissa loosened her arms from around the young man. She stepped backwards and gazed up at him, a look of awe still hanging on her face. She noticed the blood on Lityerses’ face and felt a pang of embarrassment. She felt dumb for having hit him in the face; she could already see his nose beginning to bruise and swell. _The concept of shock must be foreign to him_ , she mused.

“Nice job, Princess.” He muttered. “Great damn job.”

The air between them was warm from the embrace, and Lissa’s face felt hotter still with foolishness. She breathed in, sharply.

“I-I can fix that, Lityerses.” Her voice wavered as nervousness overtook her. Apollo was right there. Her father. She could-no, no. This wasn’t the time to prove anything to anyone. This was the chance to do something right for once.

She inhaled the cool morning air, crisp and now mingled with his scent - so pure, so calming.

“I hope this will work,” she said, only half-joking as she stepped towards Lit. She stood on her toes and closed her eyes, reaching a hand up to his face.

A humming sound slipped from her mouth - a sound so soft, it was almost indiscernible. Apollo looked on from merely feet away, intrigued. He knew the sound, he knew the song. It was an ancient prayer to him.

Light appeared from Lissa’s palm, glowing brilliantly as she held it cupped against Lityerses’ wounded nose. The swelling instantly began to recede, the blood trickling down around it vanishing. The light ceased as she brought her hand down, content with her handiwork. She stopped the song and opened her eyes, gazing up at Lityerses. He returned her gaze - bewildered, Apollo noted, but something else, too - besotted? Apollo frowned slightly, as Lissa blushed, coming to realize he and Meg were still watching.

“I’m not bad at healing,” she said. “The bad thing is I can only do it before about 15 minutes after the injury is inflicted. But I’m getting better!” Her eyes darted up at Lityerses, but quickly moved back down to focus on the ground. He looked as if he was going to say something, but what, exactly?

“You’re doing very well, if I can say anything about it.” Apollo came towards her, gently squeezing her shoulder. Lissa didn’t reply, her face red as she concentrated on toying with her necklace. Apollo noted her discomfort at this sort of attention and removed his hand. Lissa gave a quick nod.

“She’s really good. At a lot of things,” Lit said, smirking slightly as he continued, “swords, I’m better with, obviously-”

“Anything that’s sharp, I know how to fight with. Scissors, a scalpel, maybe. A blade is a blade.” Lissa muttered.

“I’ve seen you do archery occasionally.” Lit replied. “Good aim.” At that comment, both Apollo and his child smiled. Apollo couldn’t help but feel slightly perturbed, though. Lityerses seemed just a little too proud of her. And judging by the embrace he’d witnessed moments ago, it was clear they had a history. It was possible that Lityerses knew something that Lissa didn’t, they they didn’t. Why was he out here, and more pressing-

Before Apollo could say what he was thinking, Meg, feeling the same thing, summed it up perfectly.

“Did you two date or something?”

-

Lissa gazed up at the green canopy above her. It was thick, here, with only small patches of blue coming through, but everything was illuminated by a soft golden light. A few stronger rays shone down directly onto the forest floor, creating an almost fairytale-esque atmosphere. She breathed in deeply. It was calming, being here. _Have I been in this forest before?_ She felt as if she knew it well…yes, from a dream. She’d seen one like this in a dream. The trees were different, though. She remembered distant screaming, although she didn’t know the language. _Ah-_

“I never thought I’d see you again, Princess.” Lit was crouching down beside her. She started on the ground, sitting up quickly as he gave her a soft smile.

“You left.” Lissa stated, eyes cast down onto the floor, taking in the richness of the soil. Everything was so beautiful, she wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming. “You vanished.”

“Princess-” Lit’s expression changed, now stern.

“I have a name, you know.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Lissa.”

She pulled away from him, springing to her feet. Lityerses looked up at her. Her eyes resembled hard blue stone, with all the warmth they contained only a few hours prior gone completely. He stood up slowly, mere inches from her.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” She whispered. “You could have at least told me - _something_. You were one of the only good people I knew!” Lissa’s voice gained volume with each word.

“You don’t understand, Princess.” Lit replied calmly. “There are certain things I know, that I knew back there, that you didn’t and you don’t now, either. It was dangerous-”

“Like Hades it was!” She shouted. “What do you think I felt? Where were you when I was getting beaten within an inch of my life, huh?” Her voice cracked and grew softer, quieter. “Lit, I needed you. I cared about you. How could you just abandon me when I needed you the most…?” She took a deep, shaky breath as tears came to her eyes.

“I wasn’t-”

“Nero… he tried to kill me. Chained me up in a blocked off area of the Labyrinth. I-I would have died down there. Apollo and Meg saved me, by some chance. I needed you then, Lityerses. Even before then, I only hung around because I was waiting for you to come back. I thought… thought you’d want to find me. I had this stupid dream we could leave together, but you know what? I was wrong. I realised that, down there in the maze. You left me for good… you didn’t care about coming back.”

“Lissa.” Lit’s eyes widened as he grabbed her shoulders. “Listen to me, Princess. Please, listen. It was dangerous. Dangerous for me, dangerous for you. I know things - I can’t tell you what exactly, yet, but I couldn’t stay there.” He matched her gaze as he spoke slowly. “I would have come back for you. I would have done whatever I could, gods, Princess.”

Lityerses pulled her close to his body, arms enclosing her. Lissa gave a small gasp, almost instantly comforted by the close contact, no matter how much she wanted to refuse it. She sighed, her body relaxing as her head was pulled in to rest against his chest.

“I’m here with you right now. And you’re safe.” He whispered. “That should be everything that matters, Princess.” He loosened his grip and pulled back, giving her a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“You were there,” Lissa said quietly. “In the Labyrinth. I - I saw you there. Some kind of vision.”

“I was never down there,” Lityerses touched her cheek. “Your mind was messing with you. You were dreaming.”

“Oh. I… wanted it to be real. Didn’t think it was, but I hoped.”

“But now it is.” Lit dropped his hand from her face to her left wrist. He smiled as he gently took her hand in his, guiding her by her wrist until her hand was in front of his face. “Hmm, do you still have that cut…? Ahhh…”

He smirked, tracing the index finger of his other hand across the somewhat thick, faint red line on her palm. Lissa’s face burned hot, blush rising to her cheeks. Lityerses brought her open palm close to his face, and repeating what he had done months before, he pressed his parted lips against her palm, applying gentle pressure with his tongue.

Lissa gasped as he turned her hand over and kissed that with tenderness also.

“Can you forgive me, Lissa?” His eyes were as tender as his mouth had been, silently imploring her for absolution.

“Lityerses…Of course I do.” She replied, her voice nearly softer than a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m the one who should apologize. I got mad at you before you had the chance to explain.” She took a deep, stablising breath. “I love you so much.”

“ _Lissa_.”

“I love you, Lityerses.”

“Come here.” Lit grinned and pulled her into another hug, which Lissa returned this time. She wobbled on her toes but supported herself against his weight. She laughed, one of sheer happiness. “Gods, do you have any idea how much you mean to me?” He whispered. “I love you, too. I swear it. I love you. Gods, Princess…”

This time, he is the one who initiates the kiss.

-

Lissa squeezed her eyes shut tight, but, still unable to block out the light, she frowned and pulled them open. She looked up to make sure Lit was still there. He was, half asleep, one of his rugged arms thrown across her waist. She smiled lazily. She looked around. She wasn’t sure what time it was. _Did time even really matter_? She hadn’t felt this relaxed since she was probably very small-

Something flashed in the corner of her eye, making her heart skip a beat.

Something was there. No, someone.

It was a man. But not any man, no. A dead man. A ghost. The ghost she had seen before, down in the Labyrinth, refusing to leave her.

“Go away.” Lissa whispered, her breathing shallow. The figure seemed to move - _float?_ \- closer to her, its haggard expression growing ever more apparent. Lissa gulped. “Who are you?”

The apparition said nothing, but the stare he gave her was ice cold, shaking her to her very core. She gasped as he faded away, fingers scrabbling at her necklace to obsessively shut tight around its pearls. She quickly turned to check on Lit, sighing in relief when she saw he remained there, despite being able to feel his arm around her still.

She shuddered, slumping back against the ground.

Whatever the ghost was, she doubted it boded well - for her, or any of her friends.

*END*


	8. A Thousand Years (Inside)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is very late, but I was going through writer's block and some slight emotional turmoil.
> 
> No beta reader this time, so this chapter isn't my best.
> 
> TW for troubling content and mild sexual situations

Commodus watched his reflection in the mirror, eyes narrowed. He gazed upon himself, this real yet unreal doppelganger who seemingly mocked him. But was that even him, or was it merely an apparition? He lifted his hand to the glass, half expecting warm flesh to meet his own. Reality was never kind to me, never.   
Although he has fixed his gaze in the mirror numerous times, it was now occurring to Commodus how worn he looked. How pale he was, how tired and weak. Why hadn’t he realized this sooner? The weeks had dragged on and came together, a blur of opulence and Bacchanalian delight to where he was unsure of anything. Yet something was missing. _What did I leave behind-_? _Why, what vile creature is sucking me dry-_? The Fisher King, preoccupied with his own being, letting his kingdom rot.

His eyes opened, his lips parting as he watched his eyes glisten.   
The haze was broken by a manifestation, a pounding in his chest. Heart palpitations, themselves expressions of grief. A buried lament, hidden even to him. He sighed and touched his chest, his eyes squeezed shut. Commodus’ slender fingers drummed against his chest, annoyed at the furious pace of the organ concealed inside. He tapped even harder, hard bone under soft skin, the desire hot within him to crack the sternum and reveal the beating, frantic organ.

  
The cause of his emotional cachexia, the internal wasting, was clear to him.

The heart.   
My heart, _it was your heart too_. Commodus’ guilty conscious weighed upon him, unseen yet ever there, growing like cancer for weeks, gnawing at his flesh, his mind, eating him alive. Haunted by memories he thought he had buried, long forgotten in a haze, only to be stirred up in this crippling, indescribable pain. I left something back there, didn’t I? Long, long ago. Or was it only recently? He closed his eyes, envisioning his sternum cracking. Commodus smiled as the fantasy continued. Pushing aside the bone, reaching in, grasping the hot, beating organ. How lovely, all the blood-

His mind wandered, eyes open, staring back in the mirror. His eyes stare back, full of torment, sadness. But they are not his eyes. No. Commodus inhaled sharply, fingers still pressed into his chest.   
He realizes now. Why has he denied it for so long? How long has it been?

_My child. I’ve wounded you, haven’t I? I have destroyed you. Cut you open, my own darling girl. Your heart was my heart, mine was yours. When my own heartbeat ceased, yours continued on. Where is it now? I thought I was doing the right thing, I taught you to be strong_. But there is so, so much more. Commodus shuddered as the palpitations struck him once more. Tears welled up in tired blue eyes.

Melissa, my baby. He’d heard it a few weeks prior, the sound of her body repeatedly slamming the wall, the pained cries. His own body felt the pain, too. _Imagine, you and I are mentally linked_! Why didn’t he do anything? Who are you afraid of? Yourself? Him? Nero- Are you afraid of your own child?

My daughter. My child is gone. Commodus once again became frozen, transfixed in the mirror, overwhelmed by sadness. Minutes, hours pass by. Yet, something caught his eye. Glittering from out of the far corner of his vision. Slowly, his hand reached for the source, sliding across the dressing table as if weighed down. He grasped the object, holding it close to his face.

  
_Why couldn’t I have taken your place_? Commodus has been living, but he hasn’t felt alive. _It wouldn’t be that big of a sacrifice, would it_?

Cradled in his fingers and palm were pieces of gold, shards of semi-precious stone. He gazed upon it for what seemed to feel like a lifetime. His fist clenched around it. The blank expression on his face ceased as he felt a sob rise in his throat.

Later, he will press the fragments into Nero’s open palm, the pressure of the action biting into his own flesh. He will look up into Nero’s eyes, his own gaze hard as stone, never breaking contact. His body will tremble, but his voice will be strong, calm. From that day on, from this moment on, they will be divided.   
_Why am I even here?_  
 _I don’t deserve this, I never have_ -

“My daughter is dead.” Commodus will turn and walk away from him, but Nero’s glaring eyes will continue to burn in the back his mind. 

* * *

 

Commodus awoke with a start. Feeling his heart pound, he gazed around the bedroom quickly. It was still dark, still quiet. He was completely alone. Nero’s side of the bed was untouched; Commodus hadn’t seen him in days, which hadn’t bothered him at all. Usually he didn’t like sleeping alone, but he was enjoying this respite. He returned his gaze back to the front of him, focusing on the large fireplace and the green marble wall, darkened with the night, directly across from the bed. What had he dreamt that caused him to wake with a start? Long-buried memories? _I’ve had too many nightmares to count, lived through too many_ -

Commodus dropped his eyes to the sheets, fiddling with them. He felt his heart pound as the dream dawned on his mind. _He was young again, small. Sitting on the edge of something_ \- a bed? - _while his father sat in a chair across from him and gave him a steely, disapproving glare. I’ve been bad. Wordlessly, Marcus stood up and moved towards Commodus, standing over him. I didn’t ever remember him being so tall. He sat beside the small form. He knew what was coming_ -

Out of the corner of his eye, something moved.A trick of the night?  
He looked up. He gasped in shock.

“No.”

Marcus Aurelius sat upon the edge of the bed, made of flickering blue light. A spirit come back.

“No, no. You can’t be here. You’re dead. You’ve been dead-” Commodus writhed away from the apparition, who sat calm and silent a foot or so away from him. He couldn’t break away from him. “You have no power over me anymore, old man.” Commodus sneered at him, attempting to mask his fear through bravery. He gave a nervous laugh. “What? You took my daughter, and now you’ve come for me?” Could he be dreaming? _He hadn’t known reality for quite some time_ -

Marcus slid close to Commodus, almost touching him. The icy chill in the room made him shudder. A wave of nausea made his stomach lurch, get away from me. Marcus leaned in close to his son’s face. Commodus could see the pox marks from his final illness clearly now.   
He was paralyzed with fright, afraid to even scream.

“Why are you doing this?” He whispered. You’re dead. _You can’t do this again, ever._

The spirit didn’t reply. He ran a bony finger down Commodus’ neck, the freezing digit trailing down to his stomach. A sob rose in his throat.

“Go away-” His face was close, too close. No, no, no. _He was going to…He’s going to suck the life from me_ -

“Stop.” Those words failed then, and they’ll fail now. Could he really hurt his son, even now? Why are you taunting me?

Commodus squeezed his eyes shut, his heart roaring in his head, pounding and throbbing. When he opened them, the bedroom was still bitterly cold; it was as dark and silent as a tomb. A wave of sickness came over him as he stared at his hands, his breathing ragged.

* * *

 

Commodus leaned idly in the doorway of the sitting room as he adjusted his robe around his body. He bit the inside of his mouth, watching the silhouette of Nero’s face and shoulders that the fire in front of him cast.

Silently he crept close to Nero. His slender fingers and strong palms gripped his shoulders and massaged them tenderly. Nero turned his head towards Commodus, welcoming the display of affection.

“You’ve come back to me.” Nero’s grin was approving, but the warmth it radiated seemed artificial. Commodus stepped back as Nero rose from his armchair.

“I had a nightmare.” He stroked the collar of his robe, unsure of why he came. “It was useless to try and sleep-” Nero’s arm stretched out and wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, my poor sweetheart. My little pet.” He murmured. “You’ve always had a hard time resting, haven’t you? You missed me, correct?” He leaned his head down slightly to put his mouth over Commodus’, kissing him lightly.

“It was so cold in the bedroom-” he muttered.

“Its warm in here, my love.” Nero grinned, his intent shining clear in his dark eyes. “Come here. I thought I’d lost you forever.”   
Anxiety rose within Commodus as Nero kissed him again, as he pulled him closer and began to kiss his neck. He didn’t dare close his eyes. _If I do, he’ll be back_.

“Y-you haven’t lost me, Nero.” He whispered. _At least his hands were warm_.

“Something just occurred to me-” Nero trailed off to kiss him again before continuing. “You’re so good to me. And I understand your…limitations, and that is fine. But I feel I’ve been too harsh with you. You were right, Commodus, to be angry with me-” - Another barrage of kisses - “You deserve a second chance, my beloved. We could start all over again…”

“Yes?” Commodus whispered. He blinked back the tears that wet his eyes.

“Just me and you, my love. We could be a proper family.” He flickered his tongue in Commodus’ ear. He held back a sob.   
Nero’s hands dropped from his waist to grip his hips.   
“I’m sure Claudia would benefit from a playmate, don’t you think? Just imagine. Imagine how grand a dynasty we could build, all from our love…”

Commodus kissed him without reply, sighing softly. Nero growled in approval. He took Commodus’ shoulders in his plump hands and gently pushed him down onto the plush carpet. Commodus shivered despite the fire. Nero shushed him like a child, kissing his forehead.   
The silk robe and the clothes underneath rolled off his body like water droplets on soft skin. Commodus closed his eyes, but a wave of sickness threatened to overpower him, so he focused his gaze on Nero, but turned his face away to avoid looking at the erect part of him.   
Nero gathered him to his body, lowering them both onto the carpet.

Commodus shuddered as he felt Nero move within him. He bit his lip, eyes wandering around the room. _Don’t close your eyes. If you do, he’ll be back. You ruined me, you bastard_.   
Commodus groaned, his body rocking with each pounding thrust. He stared at the ornate painted ceiling, letting his mind escape him. He whimpered, his body shuddering violently as waves of delightful sensation overtook him. Yet, he wished his mind and his memories could erode like stone cliffs battered and assaulted by waves harsh waves, until nothing remained.


	9. Ghost Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm so late in updating this chapter, I was dealing with a lot of personal stress/pretty much a depressive episode as well as writers block that made it hard to focus on writing.
> 
> Beta'd by Deanerys from Tumblr, as (mostly) always.
> 
> TW for memories of past abuse/death, some mild violence and non-explicit adult content.

_Lissa hadn’t felt this free in ages._   
_She was running along the moss and lichen-covered soil, lying moist under her bare feet. She moved as quickly as she could, leaping over stones and darting around trees. She inhaled the chilly air, its taste spilling down her throat to coat her lungs, and laughed._   
_Her feet sank into the damp earth as she halted, observing the forest around her: silent, except for the mournful song of a solitary crow. I don’t remember the trees being this tall, Lissa mused, shaking her head as she continued her trek through the woods. The crisp air licked at her legs underneath her long skirt as she gazed up at the steadily darkening sky, taking in the fact the myriads of stars already hanging in the sky. She laughed to herself in delight, but it froze momentarily as she remembered that here, somewhere, there were human bones scattered in patches on the earth; skulls, on which spiders crawled. She shivered, sadness seeping into her mind, but it was quickly replaced by a feeling of tension as she noted wisps of smoke spiralling over the tops of the trees._   
_She found herself within an encampment - a Roman fort, as quiet as death, with blazing torches at the entrance the only sign it was in use. Was anyone there? Had the inhabitants disappeared, or were they sleeping? Lissa’s mind was seemingly moving in slow motion, her body completely on autopilot. She moved forwards without thought, and soon came across the entrance of a tent. Firelight shone through its fabric; someone was here. Lissa carefully pulled back one of the flaps, anxiety spreading throughout her stomach as she peered inside. There was a man inside, sitting at a desk, focused intensely upon some half-hidden documents. Maps, letters? She couldn’t see._   
_His figure seemed much larger than it should have been. Everything was growing; spinning; and her heartbeat began to pick up, mind confused beyond measure by the spatial distortion-_

_“I see you’ve finally decided to join me.” The man didn’t look at her, but the tone of his voice remained mild. “What a troublesome child. Come, come.” Lissa shrank back in shock as he finally turned his head towards her, meeting her eyes. Her mouth swung open; she had seen him before. This was the ghost in the labyrinth, the ghost she had seen only days earlier-_   
_It was like she was staring at him for the first time, mind picking up all the tiny details she’d blocked out before. His face exuded a slight weariness, his limbs tense even as he seemed to relax. She assumed he was in his late forties, but years of stress, grief, and sadness had seemingly lined his face, making him appear much older. Even his hair and beard were a dark grey, peppered with white strands. His eyes seemed pierce into her body, under her skin; scratching at her soul._   
_His eyes._   
_She guessed once they had been a brilliant cobalt, but they were now dull and tired. Lissa’s heart pounded. They look like mine. Like-_

_“I said come here,” he said, slight anger now seeping into his voice. “Now.”_   
_Lissa gulped, stepping towards him. His eyes never left her as she came to stand in front of him, gazing down at the ground as her stomach twisted. Suddenly she was pulled up off the ground, hoisted onto his lap and situated on his knee. He looked even older now, the lanterns illuminating his face making him look nearly ghoulish. One of his arms clasped her waist, holding her steady, even as she panicked, clouded head making it difficult to think._   
_“Hold out your hand.” He seemed placated now, which gave her a moment of ease. Wordlessly, she extended her right hand to him, palm up. She felt a pounding in her head, her limbs moving seemingly without the permission of her mind. She trembled slightly. She watched as he picked up a quill pen in his free hand, bringing it down onto her palm. She felt nothing as the tip pressed against the flesh under her thumb, a plump and delicate area. He pressed harder, and the tip sank into the flesh, bringing with it a bubble of blood. A stinging sensation; a burn; it was almost unbearable by the time it was withdrawn. She stared at the wound on her palm, resisting the urge to lick it clean. He pulled her closer to him, shifting her on his knee. She was pressed against him now, her newly wounded flesh against his side. Her stomach dropped; she could smell him now, his perfume riddled with sweat and something else unidentifiable._

_“Your very presence has been a curse to me from the day you were born,” he muttered quietly. “And I know deep down I should hate you, but yet - yet… without you, I would have no one.” He sighed as he pressed his face against the top of her head, her hair. He sounded so sad. If she had, in fact, ever hurt him, she felt sorry for it._   
_“You bring me so much pain, but yet so much joy…” He whispered. Lissa gasped as his free hand grabbed onto her shoulder, keeping her pressed close to him. She hissed, body still strangely unwilling to strike out and move away._   
_“Don’t worry, Papa’s got you…”_

_Papa?_

_She turned her head to look at him, her heart racing. She didn’t want to look down. Don’t look down or you’ll get sick. No. Her stomach lurched. Tears began to form within her eyes, fear starting to swallow her._  
Papa.   
_Suddenly Lissa was looking at her own face, watching the terror and anxiety on her face. But it wasn’t her face. No. It was too familiar, hers but not hers-_  
Oh, gods.  
 _Pain, sharp and stabbing in her chest, her stomach. Red behind her eyes, in a dazzling flash-_

  
Lissa bolted upright with a choking gasp, her body trembling with something that wasn’t cold. Her chest heaving, she turned her hand over quickly. No mark. Not the one from her dream, or anything else, although it did shake slightly. She tried to calm her breathing methodically as she stared at the unblemished flesh, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Mama.” She blinked back tears, biting her lower lip. I feel sorry for you. No, I feel worse, I feel-   
What did she feel? Certainly no phantom pain anywhere in her body, though only a few moments ago she had felt as if she’d been stabbed. No, she felt no pain anywhere, except her head. She felt hollow, dizzy, staring down at her own body from a vantage point which wasn’t hers. It was happening again, Lissa was certain of it. Without thinking, she brought her hand closer to her face and bit down on the fleshy spot under her thumb, not stopping until she tasted blood. She licked the small wound clean. She didn’t want to heal herself. She wanted a reminder.   
She was stronger than ever, wasn’t she?   
After a few moments of silence, she allowed herself to cry quietly. She thought of her mother. She thought of the unknown man. She thought of herself. Lissa didn’t know who she was crying for. 

* * *

 

Lissa feels sullen, lost and withdrawn; the tension she’s been harbouring since even before her dream now increased tenfold, threatening to spill over. She can’t shake the nightmare. She can’t shake the vision, or those eyes. His stare, so cold it chills her just to remember it. She can’t help but feel a part of herself - small, suppressed, vital and only recently salvaged - is slowly slipping away. A few days later, she overhears Meg telling Apollo she’s worried Lissa is a spy from Nero. She supposes she can’t blame Meg for it; she’s had a rather radical personality change overnight after all, but something inside her revolts against it, bitter and jaded and irrepressibly annoyed by the younger girl.

Not even Lityerses’ touch can make her feel comfortable as they lie together, later. Her own fingers clasp around her necklace, mindlessly fiddling with its pearls, as she unintentionally recoils from the sensation of Lit’s strong hand stroking down on the back of her neck. He only means to soothe her, not frighten her, she knows, but all the same she wants to cry out. She looks up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted, a picture of distress, and he jerks his hand away as her fingers settle back into the rhythm of obsessively toying with her necklace. She doesn’t look back up at him. She can’t deal with the pain worked into his features, now, too.

* * *

 

She knows that Apollo will approach her about her behavior sooner or later. He’s become that type of person, it seems; a peacemaker, constantly seeking resolution. She’s only happy he doesn’t venture too close to her when the encounter finally occurs.

“I want to talk with you, Lissa,” Apollo says, his voice wavering a little as he says her name. He quickly asserts himself. “You are worrying me; worrying everyone. Meg-”

“I’ve heard all about what Meg thinks,” Lissa says, cutting him off, and she’s aware the vitriol in her tone is probably unwarranted but she can’t help it. “I’m a spy, is that right? A spy for Nero. Me! Why would I be working for someone who tried to kill me?” She feels tears build behind her eyes, but swiftly blinks them back. “It’s ridiculous. I’m not a spy, a mole, whatever.” She shook her head.

“What is wrong then? I hope I haven’t caused you any further hurt…” Apollo says, face unchanging from its perfect picture of concern. She sighs, feeling the itch to relent a little. She cannot be angry with him for long, not really. He’s trying to help her.

“It’s fine, and I’m fine. I’m probably just depressed or something. I’ll snap out of it soon.” Lissa feels her lip curl a little, mood redirecting itself towards Meg. “You know what? I just might kick her a-”

“Lissa, stop this.” Surprisingly, she doesn’t flinch as Apollo clasps her hands, merely closing her eyes to draw a ragged breath. “I saw how you reacted when Lityerses tried to touch you earlier. It upset him, but you looked even worse.” Apollo squeezes her hands gently. “You need to stop acting like you have been. What happened to you, Melissa…?”

Lissa shakes her head again, her mess of black hair spilling forth over her face and shoulders. A noise like a squeak comes from her throat, to her vague irritation.

“Not to me. It didn’t happen to me.” She whispers. “I was there, I…I’ve been there before, I’ve been…I know I was there. But it didn’t happen to me-”

“What happened?” Apollo repeats quietly. He gulps, his nerves enflamed as he tries to appear calm.

“You knew my mother.” Lissa’s voice was suddenly calm. “Yes, but what does Commodus have to do with anything? Please, Melissa, tell me!” 

A memory suddenly comes flooding into his head, one he thought he had lost even as a deity, and never dreamed he would have the misfortune to regain as a mortal.  
_I wasn’t there, but I knew._   
Remember your time together.   
Remember the fading bruises on his arms and his legs when you first came to him.   
Remember his crying in the night. The bad dreams, those horrible, awful dreams.   
Remember Marcus? He was supposed to be a good, even outstanding man, yes, but _something_ else was there, it was always there-

“I had a nightmare.” Lissa’s voice was barely a whisper. “I saw him before, in the labyrinth.”  
Can a ghost haunt those who haven’t committed crimes? My only crime is being a victim. But a victim of what?

Between the two of them, something hangs in the air, thick and suffocating.   
A word neither of them can bring the other to speak.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” Her eyes are locked onto Apollo’s, her voice suddenly and startlingly calm.

  
_Stop moving._  
 _Lay still, don’t make a noise._  
 _You evil, wicked child._  
 _You’re the only one I have left, it seems. Unfortunate._  
 _Be good for me._   
  
Apollo’s breath hitches. You weren’t there, but you knew. You didn’t see it, but it happened. As much as you both wanted to deny it.   
“Lissa,” Apollo says, shakily, “it…it stopped before I knew him, before I came to him. If I could have, I would. You have to understand.”  
Tears spring to her eyes. Lissa bites down hard on her lip, enough to draw blood. She holds out her hand to Apollo, showing him the fresh bite scar under her thumb. Apollo’s eyes widen in shock as he sees it.

“Not this, but in the same place,” she says quietly. “I am so sorry.” He can see the pain etched into her face, her blue eyes staring both at him and at nothing. It reminds him so much of Commodus that he almost wants to cry.

“I’m sorry you had to find out, my child.”

“Its not your fault.” She bites down on her lip again, even harder this time. The tang of blood in her mouth does nothing to ease her mind. “You don’t know, you couldn’t have known….I-I have…You don’t know what its like…”  
Lissa tugs her hands from Apollo’s grip and backs away from him.   
“You don’t know how it feels to have these dreams almost every night!” Lissa’s voice is louder, harsher sounding. “How do you think it feels to have nightmares so bad you wake up afraid for your life? I have memories of things I’ve never seen! People and places I’ve never seen!“ Her eyes flash, turning as dark blue as the sea. Her breath comes harder, in shaking gasps.

“Melissa,” Apollo says cautiously.

“He didn’t do anything to deserve it.” She staggers forward, collapsing against her father, clinging to him as she begins to sob, the noises sounding like the strangled cries of a kitten at first, but then taking a more bitter turn. “He didn’t do anything! He was good to me! He was! My mother never did anything wrong! He didn’t…No…No…It hurt so much…”   
Apollo gingerly strokes her back, his fear of spooking his daughter disappearing. His lips purse and brow furrows as her face is buried against his shoulder. Lissa’s head is beginning to throb from her internal agony, psychological pain bleeding over into somatic. In between the pounding throbs comes a wave behind her eyes; a vision. 

_Cold blue waves, ripples, water. Beautiful marble columns - ice columns, maybe? Lissa swims and turns through the icy water, body sleek and pale. She swims up to the surface - or she tries to, for her body suddenly feels heavy, weighed down. She almost breaks the surface, and she sees a shadow over the water, a head, a blurry face. Her stomach seems to twist and throb; she pays no mind to it._   
_Does she know that shadowy figure? She cannot see them clearly enough to tell. She finally breaks the surface, her face greeted by the delicious sensation of warm air. She stares up in awe at the mysterious face, still obscured by dim light. Before she can do anything, his hands grip her shoulders hard and push her back down into the icy pool. Lissa tries to scream as she struggles against her attacker, but no sound escapes her mouth. She fights with all her power, thrashing about, but it is no use. She is running out of oxygen; her movements are becoming weak, with no force behind them. Her body gives out._   
_She feels the hands loosen their grip, but it is no reprieve; her body has ceased to move. Limp, she sinks to the bottom of the cavernous waters, eyes wide, lips opening to choke mouthfuls of water into her lungs. She slips to the bottom of the lake, and her last conscious thought is of the identity of the face- she knows him - she places him - she remembers -_

Lissa lifts her face from Apollo’s damp shoulder, her eyes flashing dark. Apollo knows that face, those bloodshot and crimson-rimmed eyes, the slope of that nose. Commodus, standing before him again. He flinches, fluttery panic rising in his body, but manages to retain a façade of control.

“What…What did you do?” Lissa’s voice is devoid of emotion, nearly mechanical. “You loved him. What did you do to him…?”   
Lissa’s body begins to tremble as her shock settles.

“Please, don’t-I had to. Do you think I wanted to?”

“He never told me. Ever…. He never spoke badly of you to me. And you killed him. What I saw…that was it! You drowned him!” The monotone note of her voice has vanished, giving way to a sound full of rage. “You loved each other and you murdered him! Did you even think about me?!” Her arm reaches out blindly, striking Apollo in the shoulder. He doesn’t flinch as she clumsily hits him - attempts to hit him - again.

“Stop it.”

“You’re a bastard. You could have stayed with him, we could have been a family!”

“Lissa, please. Stop this. You don’t understand. Listen to me!”

“Like Hades I will! It’s your fault I’m like this! If you hadn’t have killed him, Nero wouldn’t have ruined me like he did! He wouldn’t have ruined Meg! This is all your damn fault, Apollo!” Apollo frowns, catching up her hands again to grasp them tightly. Lissa hisses, trying to pull away.   
“Bastard,” she spits. “Murderer. All you ever do is hurt people!”

“He went insane, Melissa!” Apollo finally yells. “He lost his mind. He hurt people, and he was going to hurt more of them. I just couldn’t sit there and do nothing, I had to kill him! It was the only decision I could make!” Lissa breaks away from him to rock back onto her heels. She stares at him with wild, wide eyes, not focused on anything. Her lips part as if to say something, but no sound comes. Before Apollo can step towards her or say anything, she turns from him and runs. Apollo stands frozen for a mere second before he darts after her, calling her name. Lissa pushes herself forward, faster and perhaps farther than she has ever run before, the only goal in her mind to get away from him. He’s lying. His words make no sense. She has no idea where she’ll go or what she’ll do. She’s not particularly sure she cares. Her surroundings begin to blur together; the trees, ground, and sky blending to create a mossy, muddy blue clutter. Her heart pounds in her chest so loudly it’s probably dangerous, but she refuses to slow. Suddenly, she feels a sickening crack of pain shoot up her leg as she takes a wrong step, ankle giving way to turn in on itself. She collapses onto the ground, leaves tangled in her hair. She tries to get up, but her legs give way again, sending her tumbling to the ground. Apollo eventually catches up with her, his mortal body doing its best to fight off fatigue. His daughter is more powerful than she looks, he muses, then shrugs the thought off. It’s unhelpful to either of them, right now.

“Lissa…” He crouches beside her curled up form, his hand lightly pressing against her shoulder. He can feel her body shiver and heave under his touch. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes. “I know that you’re feeling hurt. I regret that. I cannot regret anything else. It may seem utterly wrong, but Commodus really did go insane. I tried to fix him, Lissa, I tried to help him and our relationship, against the better judgement of… ah, everyone.”

“You were foolish.” Lissa whispers. “You abandoned him when he needed you the most. He was just hurting.”

“I clung onto him for a long time, Lissa. In the end, it was inevitable. Commodus hurt many innocent people. And mortals cannot live so very long.”  
Lissa sits up to lean against Apollo; perhaps more out of necessity than acceptance, but Apollo chooses to be optimistic and take it as the latter. He closes his eyes, giving a small sigh of relief.   
In an instant, he feels his body slam into the ground. Lissa propels herself via her good foot to lunge at him, pinning him viciously to the floor. Fear courses through him as he gazes up at her, thighs on either side of his waist, her black eyes like the choking death of flame, devoid of even a shred of forgiveness. Her hair is utterly wild, and her face holds the same savage look that Commodus possessed during their final - fatal - meeting, sparkling with madness.   
Her face still holds that soft smile. So beautiful, but yet so cruel. Her fist comes down across his face, striking his cheek with a good amount of force.

“Calm down!” Apollo protests, powerful alarm flickering across his own features. “Stop it, Lissa. Hurting me will not change the past, no matter what you do!”

“He loved you!” She shrieks. “He loved you more than anything and you betrayed him! He said he loved you!”   
Before she can strike him again, Apollo grabs for her arms, throwing his weight sideways to unbalance her, tossing her onto her back before she can recover. She kicks and bites at him, screaming and cursing in Latin, her body writhing to escape his grasp. She bucks against him, successfully throwing him off of her, and lunges at him again, this time with her hand clasped around his throat. “Killing me will not solve anything!” Apollo says urgently, struggling to swallow as her grip tightens. His eyes fix upon her own, never breaking her gaze.

”I didn’t want to do it. Titans know, I cared. And I didn’t….I didn’t know. Neither did he. About you, I swear.“ Apollo breaks off, hissing as he begins to choke, but Lissa’s eyes have softened with confusion; a wavering of resolve, and he tries again.   
“I knew he was hurting, I always knew that. I did what I could to help him, and I was sorry I couldn’t do anything more. But you doing this, now - that won’t fix it, you won’t heal him like this. You won’t heal yourself, either. So please-”

“Do you think-?” Lissa responds, her voice so quiet it barely registers in his roaring ears. She once again feels the throbbing in her ankle, and winces. “Things would have turned out differently, had you known…?”

Before either get the chance to speak further, in an instant, something shoots into Apollo’s vision from the left, striking Lissa in the face, throwing her off of him. A brilliant flash of color accompanies Lissa’s answering scream.   
As skilled as Lissa is in other areas, she has obviously never learnt how to deal with sneak attacks.

“Apollo, are you okay?” It’s Meg’s voice that is filtering down towards Apollo. “Did she hurt you? I told you she couldn’t be trusted!” Meg kneels beside him, looking him over to where the skin of his neck is beginning to turn from white to red.

“I am fine, Meg, thank you, but-” Apollo sits up, his gaze switching from her to Lissa, who lies on the ground, cursing softly.

“What did you do that for?!” Meg snaps. “You awful-”   
Then Lityerses is there, placing himself between Apollo and Lissa in a rush.

“Shit, shit.” He mutters as he looks at Lissa, pulling her upwards and letting her rest against him. Lissa groans, rubbing her cheek. He looks over at Meg. “I tried to tell her-” “She was going to kill him!!” Meg yells, as Lit’s brow furrows.

“I wasn’t in the best place, so to speak.” Lissa says quietly.

“You okay, ἀγαπητη?” Lityerses whispers. Lissa only shrugs in response, her head pounding. She winces again as the pain in her ankle flares up once more.

“We had a misunderstanding.” Apollo stands up and brushes himself off. “Your actions were courageous, Meg, and I do thank you, but you did not have to kick her like you did.”

“N-no, it’s fine, Apollo.” Lissa replies. “I deserved it. I was so overwhelmed that I just… lost myself. Meg was right to do that.” She looks at Meg. “I know what you think, but I’m not a spy. I was….dealing with something bad. And I am so, so sorry.” She shakes her head.

“All is forgiven, Lissa.” Apollo smiles, albeit a little shakily. He turns back to Meg, who still looks skeptical.

“Don’t mess with him again,” she says bluntly.

* * *

 

It isn’t much different from their nights together long ago. But now, in the current moment, everything seems different. Everything is exactly the same, but it feels… off.  
_He deserves this_ , Lissa muses. _I’ve been so horrible to him._   
She catches Lityerses’ mouth up with her lips, feeling him smile against her mouth as she places her hands on his face, pulling him in close to her. She shivers as the tip of his tongue meets hers, in an electric dance she never wants to end. Her body relaxes in his tight embrace as they continue to kiss, each second deepening into a nearly uncontrollable passion.   
Lityerses sighs as he feels her warmth against his body. Her fingers trace over the scars and marks that cover his face; his body is a canvas, a map for a worthy cartographer to discover at their leisure.   
Lissa inhales deeply. It’s nice having his comforting scent surround her. Her fingers trace the ridges and canyons that crisscross his skin; the whole continents laid out over his torso; the blue veins which constitute rivers. She giggles as she moves her fingers lower, thinking, _this must be farmland_ , to herself.   
Lissa is no longer a mystery to Lityerses. His mouth has kissed her every inch, paying lavish attention to her scars, kissing them with as much passion as he kisses her mouth.

This is first love. Passion laid bare, heart laid bare.   
My only love, my only love. Lissa’s eyes glitter and dance as he lifts her slightly, pulling her to him. His teeth graze her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. Lissa smiles, arms wrapped over his broad shoulders. Lityerses’ eyes never break from hers as they move, their bodies undulating slowly, closer, closer, until he is powerless to do anything but become hers.   
Lityerses sighs into her ear; murmuring pretty little Greek phrases which could mean nothing for another couple but mean everything to them.   
Yes, yes.  
Everything has changed, but some things will always remain.  
You. _My love for you._

  
Lissa closes her eyes and sighs softly as her skin floods with warmth. Now, she feels completely safe. 

* * *

 

Apollo is thankful; relieved, even, when his child returns to a sense of normalcy. Even though Meg’s relationship with Lissa is once again rocky, at least they are civil towards each other. He does not blame Lissa for her attack. He never could. She was in pain, and she was his child, and she had Commodus’s eyes.

Deep in his mind, Lissa’s words still claw at him.

_He loved you.  
He loves you._

_I had to do it, darling, I’m sorry_ , he thinks, over and over the words have lost all meaning and he is left with crushing unease, and the crushing worry that he is, after all, wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first PJO/Trials of Apollo fanfiction. I had previously wrote about the character of Lissa in various oneshots on my Tumblr blog, mostly focusing on her early years and her relationship with Commodus.  
> The working title comes from a song of the same name by Sting. After hearing it, I was inspired to write a full blown story featuring Lissa, with the focus on parental love, trauma, alienation, and sacrifice. 
> 
> Reviews and criticisms would be most welcome. Thank you.


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